When You Wish
by Lady Elora
Summary: REVISION OF A LOSS OF MEMORY. When Elora is sent back to Middle Earth as a tragedy srikes her, she dosen't want to remember the past. Can she survive the War of the ring? Will she ever know what home and family mean? Teen in Middleearth. AU
1. The Heartbreak

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANYTHING IN THIS STORY! _EXCEPT_ FOR ELORA! THE REST WAS USED FROM THE STORY WRITTEN BY J.R.R. TOLKIEN!

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2-13-05: Hello everyone one. I was re-reading this story the other day and all I kept thinking was...God...this is terrible! So, you have to start somewhere right? Anyway, I'm revising all of "A Loss Of Memory". Under a new title and a better story line!(Exactly the same plot as the old one, I'm just reworking it.) New title: When You Wish. This is more for my own personal benefit then anything else, so I don't expect many reviews for it. But just so you know what I'm doing here. :)

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Chapter One

The Heart Break

It was raining. It always seemed to be raining since the day it happened. Elora sat very still on her bed as she pressed her hand to the window and stared out into the bleak world. It pounded on the window like a million tiny needles. At least it wasn't thundering...yet. She didn't like thunder. Not anymore. She could still see the way his deep brown eyes has stared up at her as he laid in the mud. So very still, so calm. Ready for what was to come. She hadn't been ready. She had never been ready.

Someone once said, why do we love if we ask for so much pain in doing so? She didn't know. She didn't want to think on it. Because Snowy, her beautiful horse Snowy, was dead. To know what it is like to lose a friend so trustworthy, one who knew all your secrets, wishes, and desires. Who calmed your fears and pulled you through. But he wasn't there anymore. Taken so cruelly by fate from her. It wasn't fair, and yet, was anything ever fair? She had no more tears to cry, no more words to say. Only silence and the patter of the rain. The dull patter of the rain.

* * *

Elora was not a particularly stand-out type of girl. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, nor was she hideously ugly. She was just...plain...average. Not extremely different, not one to stand out. She was shy, withdrawn, and quiet. She was tall, standing at around 5'8". Large, and strong. She wasn't fat, nor was she skinny. Just...somewhere in the middle. She had shoulder-length curly, dark brown hair and matching brown eyes. She lived on a small horse farm in the country with her parents and her sister, Kira. Judging by her physical appearance, she looked more older then she actually was, which was fourteen.

Her life evolved around horses, her family, school, and her books. Books. And now, her best friend, her Snowy was gone. He had been named after Theoden's brave mount from Return of the King, one of her particular favorite books. Snowy was jet black with a single white star. Like Black Beauty. He had been named such because he had always seemed to do exactly the opposite of what you wanted. Not for her though, he had liked her. And she had loved him. And now he was gone. She could still see his sad eyes. Waiting. Just waiting silently for the final blow. For the end.

* * *

She could see where they had buried him from the window. The rain still pelted it. Three days. He had been gone for three days. So short a time, but it seemed like an eternity. Was it only a few days ago that they had ridden together in the woods? Watching the geese migrate south as winter drew nearer. It hurt suddenly, all that she had been feeling came back to her. All the tears, all the sobs and cries. She needed to get away. Slowly, she turned from the window and picked his framed picture up from her night-table. Grabbing her coat, she stuffed it inside one of the inner pockets of its denim lining.

Without pausing to think on what she was even doing, she threw open her door and ran down the stairs. Her mind was whirling, she couldn't think straight. She just needed to get away, she just needed to be...alone. Her hand was grasping the cold metal knob on the front door when she heard her name.

"Elora?"

She paused, it was her mother.

"Elora, where are you going."

She didn't turn around she could hear her mother's soft tread on the carpet nearing her.

"Out." She said softly.

"Out where?"

She couldn't answer foolish questions now! The replies blurred in her mind.

"Please, just leave me alone..." She whispered.

"Elora, where are you going?" Her mother's voice was sharper now, demanding.

How could she reply? She didn't know, where was she going? Out. She needed to get out. "Leave me alone Mom, please." She begged, her voice more urgent. Her shoulders hunched, tension building inside of her.

"Elora-"

"Why do you care?" She snapped, whirling to face her mother suddenly, her brown eyes flashing.

"Is this about Snowy?" Her mother asked gently, taking another step towards her.

Snowy. The sound of his name took her breath away. The blood was pounding in her head, it was so hot in here. She needed to get out...she needed to get away. Her anger flared, her fists clenched at her side. "Why do you care? You killed him! You did this to him! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Her mother flinched at her harsh words and the stunned look on her face made Elora immediately regret them. But she didn't care...she didn't want to care. Why couldn't she just leave her alone? She whirled and opened the door, darting out to the gravel drive-way. Her feet hit the stones hard as she ran faster and faster to the woods. She could hear her mother frantically screaming her name.

"Elora? ELORA? Come back! Please come back!"

But she didn't stop, she couldn't go back. She needed to get away. She needed to be alone. Elora didn't know where she was nor did she care where she was going. Her brown, curly hair whipped her face. The branches caught her clothes, tore at her arms and face. The sun was almost set the forest was becoming darker, her path harder to see. She splashed into a stream, cold mud splattered all over her body. When at last she felt her lungs would burst if she didn't stop, her legs gave out and she fell to the ground. Her chest was heaving for air, her body shaking, drenched with mud, sweat and blood. She lay there, shivering, and she closed her eyes. She was so tired, her body stilled, the shaking stopped and she lay there.

It seemed like eternity before she once more opened her eyes. It was pitch black. She slowly stood as panic began to rise is in her chest. _Where am I?_ It was then she realized... she didn't know. She spun around and around trying to figure out where she was. She ran foward, not knowing in which direction she was running. Her eyes searching for a light... a sign of something familiar.

"MOM!" She shouted, "MOM?"

No one answered.

Suddenly, she was airborne. Flying through the air with startling speed. Elora raised her arms to protect her face. There was a bright flash, then hit the ground painfully, and then there was darkness.

* * *

She hurt all over and lay very still for a moment, breathing heavily. Her head throbbed, she could feel a trickle of blood run down her face. She put her hand to her head and winced. There was a small gash on her forehead above her left temple, she had split her lip as well. Everything else hurt enough to be broken...so far nothing was.

Oh well, can't do anything about it anyway. It's pitch black, I have no idea where I am, and I could be miles away from civilization. How far did I run? It seems like hours. Things couldn't possibly be better.

She felt her pocket for Snowy's picture but she didn't feel the reassuring touch of the smooth wood. In fact, she didn't feel anything at all. It was gone. She sat bolt upright and began to search the ground frantically for it. Yet the tall, tan grass revealed no signs of the brown mahogany frame, or of the image of his face . She felt her pocket again, she could feel the lock of black mane she had always kept there...for good luck. But there was no picture.

She could feel the sun's heat on her back. _Is it noon already? _It was so hot. Then, Elora froze, it was dark just a minute ago. She looked up but the sun blinded her. _And since when do woods has tall grass? _She looked around, _or plains? Our woods didn't have plains, what woods do? And another thing, there was no woods around here. Only rocky, grassy plains that stretched on for miles and miles._ Her loose dark, brown shirt had begun to cling forcefully to her as the sun rose higher in the sky. What could she do?

I'm lost.

Her clothes were grimy and torn, her body bruised, and she was lost. Perfect. She stood up, swaying slightly at first before she shaded her eyes and looked around. But all she saw were plains, plains that stretched on and on for miles. Wait, she could see a forest... and a large column of smoke rising in front of them. She shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot. But what other choice did she have? _I want to go home. _She started walking very slowly through the tall grass, dragging her booted feet and stumbling over an innumerable amount of rocks that remained hidden from her view. The gash on her forehead hadn't clotted as of yet, so the tiny stream of blood still trickled down her cheek.

She was so thirsty but didn't even hope to imagine there was a stream or anything nearby. So she kept walking. Soon her mouth and lips were parched, and the smoke column was still so far away.

It has been about two hours past when she stopped to catch her breath.

That's when she saw them. Three horses, three horses standing on the rise. All bearing riders.

* * *

The first horse was pure white, the second brown, and the last was a dappled grey. They were still ways off, so she couldn't distinguish the riders at all. One thing she did know however, was that they had seen her. For they had stopped moving for a moment, and now they were riding hard towards her. Elora looked left or right, there was no where to go. Only this sea of grass. Damn. They were riding for her, riding hard. She contemplated running in the opposite direction for about two seconds, and then she just stood there and waited.

They stopped four or five feet away. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with confusion. _God, they look like something straight out of a book. _A weather-beaten man sat astride the brown horse. His hair was dark, his clothes were torn and muddied, and his eyes were light. A silver grey, she saw wisdom in them. But no emotion was written on his face. None at all. It was he who spoke first.

"Might I ask who you are?" He asked, his voice was deep and firm. And his face...she had seen it before somewhere...

She blinked, looking up at him. "I...I...I...was trying to find my way home." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. She wanted to speak louder...but she just couldn't. Did that even make sense? The silent figures were eyeing her with narrowed eyes.

"And where is your home child?" came another voice, this time from the white horse. This figure was met with her brows raised. He wore a long, flowing robe. A sword strapped to his waist and along, white staff in his hand.

"I don't know. I'm lost." She answered quietly, she looked in turn at each figure before asking. "Could you tell me where I am?" The question in and of itself sounded stupid, she knew it. But she was at a loss for words. And the throbbing in her head was becoming more painful as blood continued to drip down her face.

"Rohan." The man on the brown horse said. He talked funny...it was almost like he was speaking English...but not. Then it slowly came to her, like fog rolling in over a moor. Rohan...Rohan...

Oh My God..._it can't be..._

.. 

"Milady? Milady?" Asked the man from the white horse. The one in the robes. It was all starting to click, the weird language, this place, these people. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't! The fog was rolling in and blanketing her mind strongly now. She blinked and shook her head to clear it, she needed to think! But it refused to leave...

"Rohan..." She whispered. It was then that she swayed violently, the throbbing in her head too much to ignore. And all she could recall as the black curtain closed around her, was the tall grass...blowing and swaying in the breeze. _I'm in the Lord of the Rings. _

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED... 


	2. New Companions

Chapter 2

New Companions

She could hear only the pounding of horses hooves when she awoke. Her head throbbed, but she could feel a course cloth wrapped around her forehead. Her hands were tied around something and she lifted her head up slowly, blinking as she gathered in her surroundings. _She was resting on someone's shoulder_...the someone...was a man. Instinct started to kick in, she jerked violently at this new revaluation, pulling at the ropes which bound her to the stranger. She could hear him take in a sharp breath then whisper,

"Do not fear milady."

"Who are you?" She croaked.

"I have the right to ask you the same question." Replied the voice, it was deep, a hint of amusement resonating from it as it replied.

"My name is Elora." She replied meekly, her body tense as the horse ran on over what seemed to be endless plains. She blinked a few more times, staring hard at the man's profile._ It was Aragorn_.

_Oh God, I'm not dreaming. But this can't be real..._ Yet the pain in her head was real, she could feel Aragorn breathing against her. "I am called Strider." He replied, not taking his eyes off the horse. "Or Aragorn you may call me."

Elora hesitated, pausing to form her next words correctly. "Why did you take me with you?" She asked slowly. Aragorn now glanced back slightly at her, smiling slightly as if it was a joke.

"We couldn't just leave you now could we?"

Elora paused again, thinking on what he had said. "But...how do you know I can be trusted..." She quickly recalled what had happened in the _Two Towers_...it had been a while since last she read them. "...these are dangerous times."

"It was a risk." He agreed, looking back at her again.

"So why did you take me?"

"Because Gandalf advised us to."

"Gandalf?" This was more of a 'where is he' question then a 'who is he' question. She was still trying to force her nausea and concentrate on what was happening to her right now. Aragorn nodded ahead, Elora could see a streak of white over the dull brown of the plains. Shadowfax. The name came easily and unbidden to her mind. This couldn't be real...she would wake up any moment now to find that it had all been a dream...so far it wasn't. Her wrists were starting to ache and her head was pounding slightly with pain that made her feel light-headed.

"I expect he will talk to you in greater detail when we reach our destination." Aragorn said, the wind lashing at his words as they road on making conversation difficult to pursue. "We had to tie your hands so you would stay on the horse, you passed out."

Elora nodded, blushing slightly at the realization of his words. "Where are we going?" She asked hesitantly, also noticing that the longer she thought about Lord of the Rings, the more she forgot how it ended. It fact, her whole life seemed to fade slightly from memory.

"Edoras, home of the horse lords. We are riding on the plains of Rohan right now."

The wind prevented them from good talk, but Elora didn't mind. Her brain was working frantically to sort through the confusion of her present state and work out what to do next. Well, she was in Middle Earth, that was a fact to be sure of. And now they were going to Edoras. She laid her head on his shoulder once more in weariness, closing her eyes and letting the ringing of horses hooves fill her ears as she thought.

"Gandalf told us that all things will be revealed in time." He said loudly.

Elora did not answer, she huddled closer to him, the wind biting at her thing clothing. After a while, the horses were brought to a halt on the rise of a hill. From their position they could see the Golden Hall, the majesty of it visible even from their distance.

"Edoras, capital of Rohan. There sits Theoden, King of the Golden Hall." Gandalf said, his voice was firm and rumbled deeply when he spoke. "Do now look for welcome here."

"Why are we going to Edoras?" She whispered to Aragorn before he spurred his horse on...for a strange horrifying realization came over her...she didn't remember anything that happened from this point on in the story...in the book. It was strange...like a whole page of her memory had been wiped clean.

"To give aid to Theoden, King of Rohan." Aragorn replied, the horse jolted forward as he nudged it on.

"But why do you trust me with this knowledge?" She asked. "You are at war...I could be a spy."

Aragorn did not reply at once, the city gates were looking up ahead of them. "Gandalf told us you could be trusted. He will reveal this to you soon."

She did not ask him anything more. She couldn't, for they were stopped at the gates and as her breathing became faster in nervousness, she wondered how a wizard...from a book made purely of fantasy...who wasn't even _real_. She shuddered, the guards at the gate had conversed with Gandalf in a language she did not know and now the gates were opening wide. They were in Edoras.


	3. The Golden Hall

Chapter Three

The Golden Hall

* * *

At the gates they were stopped by a number of guards, and they in turn conversed with Gandalf in a language Elora did not understand. Upon gaining permission, they rode up through the city, and soon stood before the steps of a large building. The wind blew Elora's curly hair everywhere, it lashed her face, reminding her painful of her dash through the forest. She looked up at the building, recalling the name of it to her mind, she smiled at her small accomplishment as it came to her and she whispered it aloud, _the Golden Hall_. Aragorn removed a dagger from his side and cut the rope which had bound her to him. He slid off and then looked up at her with his hand outstretched, waiting to help her down. Elora took it, thankful she had someone to hold on to because just then...she didn't think she'd be able to stand on her own. Walking up the steps the four were stopped by a guard.

"I cannot let you see Theoden so heavily armed." Said the one who approached him, his sandy brown hair was long, draping over his broad shoulders except for the bit he had pulled away from his face.

Reluctantly they started pulling out their weapons, Elora didn't have any so she stood, watching silently. She, in turn, received a number of curious stares from the surrounding guards and looked down so that they would not see her face flush deep scarlet. _Well you look weird too._ She thought hotly in retort.

"Your staff?" The man said, gesturing to Gandalf's long, gleaming white pole which he held protectively in one hand.

"Oh." He glanced first at the staff fondly and then at the guard. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The guard frowned, but Elora could see a gleam of hope in his eyes as he let them pass. Legolas slipped his arm under Gandalf's elbow as they to strengthen the effect. They walked through the double doors into a large hall. At the far end there sat an old man. His clothes were pale as his skin, dull with age. He almost looked dusty. His beard and hair were in disarray. Sitting at his left side was a smaller man, his pale skin, running eyes, and conniving expression as he smiled smugly at them. He started to whisper into the old man's ear.

More soldiers outlined the room, there was thick tension in the air. The soldiers moved in closer as the four companions approached. Gandalf began to speak angrily to the sick looking man, _Grima Wormtongue_, she told herself smugly. The name suited him, and never had she felt as much disgust as she looked upon him. She wasn't really listening to what was being spoken between the wizard and the thin man, but as Gandalf's face went livid she jerked to his loud shout.

"Quiet! I did not pass through fire and death to battle words with a witless worm." Gandalf pulled out his staff which had lay hidden beneath his cloak and now seemed to glow in the dull light of the room. Theoden eyed him warily, his haunted face not seeming to see more then Grima had told him.

Grima took a step back, clearly horrified. "His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

That was it, the soldiers outlining the room rushed in and attacked them with startling speed. Unfortunately, that was all the three hunters had been waiting for. They sprang on their attackers with ferocity, and Elora, infuriated when one turned on her as well, fought one closest to her with a snarl. She received many blows in return, but her anger had reached a boiling point and it had felt...well...natural.

The others, including the guards at the door, had joined in, and soon there were no longer any to oppose them. Gandalf, during this time, had approached Theoden, the old, sick king on the throne. Elora couldn't see much, a few guards had blocked her view. Her vision blurred due to a sharp bolt of pain from her forehead. But she did see a woman dressed in white rush from the doorway and catch the old man as he fell from his throne. Elora could vaguely remember that part from the films, it was eery, dream like.

The old man looked up, his sickly pallor was gone, and he appeared centuries younger. He looked at the woman, a soft smile seeping into his features. "I know your face," he whispered. "_Eowyn._"

The lady in white, Eowyn was crying as she helped the king to his feet. Gandalf had a pleased look on his face said,

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped your sword."

The guard from the gate, who she could remember to be called Hama, came up and placed a

sword in Theoden's hand. The king looked at in fond recognition and amazement, his grasp tightening around the hilt.

But Elora didn't see anything more, for she had sunk onto a bench in the shadows, weariness creeping into her mind. She closed her eyes, rubbing her bandaged forehead in an attempt to ease the throbbing there, and was soon unaware of all things.

* * *

When Elora woke once more, she was still one the bench. A blanket had been draped around her shoulders. She could see Gandalf, who sat next to Theoden on his throne. Both were looking at Eowyn as she spoke to them. She stood next to, two small children, both hungrily gulping down food.

"Where's Mama?" One of them asked, a young girl. Eowyn whispered soft words to her that Elora could not and did not try to hear. As Elora stood, stretching sore muscles that she didn't even know she had, Gandalt briefly caught her eye and nodded before continuing his debate with Theoden. She clutched the blanket around her tightly, wishing suddenly for a bed. Her head was throbbing again and she wondered with a grimace how deep it was.

Aragorn saw her and nodded as well, it seemed to be a polite, but brief greeting. "Sleep well?" He asked, looking with the eyes of a healer at her bandaged head and noting the sores around her wrists where the ropes had rested.

She rubbed her stiff neck and smiled shyly, "As well as can be expected on a bench." She won a smile from him and felt an immediate burst of pleasure with the knowledge that she had pleased him. Aragorn had always been her favorite in the books, and she felt a desire to make herself favorable in his eyes. Thus far, she had no idea what would please the Ranger. Again she tried to reach deep into her memory for a recollection of what happened next in the story, but was rewarded again with only the frustrating result of blankness. "I was tired." _I am still tired. _Her mind corrected, she moved closer to one of the many pillars outlining the room, trying to catch a small part of the conversation going on around her.

Failing, she reached up to rub her forehead and grimaced again when she noted the dampness of the coarse cloth. It had been stupid to run through the forest. She leaned heavily against the pillar, watching the goings on of the others in the room. Most were speaking in a language she did not know...Rohirric. She knew little of the languages of Middle Earth...and with good reason. Less then a day ago this place had only existence in a vivid place in her imagination. Elora knew a little Sindarin...but that was it. The Golden Hall was every bit as grand and magnificent as she had imagined it to be, every part of the room was carved into intricate designs, telling the history of the house of Eorl.

"Elora?" She turned at the sound of her name and found herself looking into the face of the Ranger once more. Blinking in uncertainty and surprise as she realized that Aragorn had been trying to gain her attention for some time now. Eowyn was standing next to him, and slightly behind him stood Legolas and Gimli who were talking quietly to one another. "Lady Eowyn has offered to take you to your room, she will see you to your comfort."

Elora blushed a deep shade of red, not meeting either of their gazes, steeling her face and fighting her rising feeling of shyness and embarrassment. She nodded slightly to Eowyn in respect, awkwardly avoiding the feeling that had also risen to curtsey to her. She couldn't remember anyone curtseying in Lord of the Rings, and she wasn't going to make a fool of herself now.

"It is my pleasure to meet you Elora." Eowyn said, a smile upon her pale face.

"As I you Lady Eowyn."

She looked back at Aragorn, glancing once at Gandalf. She was anxious to speak with the wizard, she had so many questions to ask, for there were so many things that she did not understand. "Thank you Aragorn." She said quietly.

He smiled, bowed his head. "Sleep well."

* * *

"You wear strange garments Elora, where do you come from?" Eowyn asked as she led Elora down the halls to a room on the far end.

Eowyn had a soft, yet firm voice. Her slim form was carried with confidence that easily marked her as a daughter of Rohan. Elora, still slightly dazed from the events of the past day, turned to her with a slight jerk. "Oh...um...far away. Nowhere near here."

"Oh." Eowyn's reply was awkward as had been Elora's, but frankly, she had no idea how to respond to that question. _So...I'm from another world billions of years into the future and you are only a fairy-tale character where I come from? _Ah-no. I don't think so. "You must have had a long journey. What brings you to Edoras?"

"I was...traveling with Gandalf and Aragorn." She didn't say more to that. She knew Eowyn was only trying to be polite, but all these questions were becoming increasingly difficult to answer.

"Here we are." Eowyn said at last, pushing open a door to a room and lighting the fireplace inside. It was a cozy room, small, but dainty. It held a rustic feeling, added to by the equestrian designs in the walls and in the furniture.

"This is wonderful." Elora murmured, a trace of awe in her voice as she looked around.

"My room is just down there to the right." She said, pointing to a door further down. "A maid will come in the morning with fresh garments for you to wear and breakfast. She will tell you where Lord Aragorn and Gandalf are if you ask."

"Thank you so much Lady Eowyn."

Eowyn smiled softly, "Just Eowyn. And thank you, your coming with the Gandalf has brought changes sorely needed to this country. Rohan is grateful to you and your friends."

"I did nothing–" Elora protestedat once but was silenced by the lady.

"Yes, you did. You are a brave young woman Elora. It will bring you far in this world."

Speechless, Elora could only gape and Eowyn smiled once more. "Sleep well Elora."

"Yes...thank you La-...um...Eowyn. You too."

Eowyn closed the door softly behind her and once she had left, Elora turned to survey the room. It was lit only by the dull light from the fire. But it gave the room a warmth that immediately made her drowsy. She washed her face in cold water left out in a basin on a dresser-like piece of furniture and then upon approaching the bed, slid off her muddied boots, and sank into it's soft comfort.

Within seconds she was drifting off into a place between reality and fantasy, and soon her flight through the woods, her coming to Rohan, and even the painful memory of Snowy's death seemed only a distant memory.

* * *

And that's the third chapter. - Nothing much to report, only I wanted everyone to see how I am changing Elora's character slightly here, she is not so fiery as in the Original and more withdrawn and in awe of her whole situation. I mean, heck, I'd been out for a week...no...a year if I woke up in Middle Earth. Also, a note on the language barrier here, I never gave much thought to Westron being different then Modern Day English and I basically consider them one and the same. Now, I know this is not true and that Westron IS considered a wholly different language then Modern Day English, but hey, this is only a fanfic and it is mine and that's the way I feel. Just felt like making that clear. :)

Mystical Full Moon Maiden: Just wanted to reply to your review. I assumed you were referring to me not posting a disclaimer on chapter two. Um, I did post a disclaimer at the beginning of this story, (note first chapter) and I do consider myself to be a true Tolkien fan nonetheless. ;) I just find it repetitive and annoying to the format to keep writing disclaimers so I don't do them for every chapter. I believe I made it clear in my first chappie that I would _NEVER DARE_ to steal Tolkien's work. I mean, it's like a second Bible to me. :) Just wanted to run that by you and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. :)

Thanks to all my new reviewers and to all my old. (Thanks everyone!) And thanks to my beta, Kiann. :)

Namarie,

Luthien Anaclime

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Relicor

Chapter Four

Relicor

* * *

Elora woke up the next morning still feeling sore, but now throughly rested. She sat up in bed and looked around. It took a few moments to recall the events of the past day and after she once again got over the shock, she sighed and rubbed her head. Whereupon she stood, stretched her arms, and looked back at the soiled sheets in dismay. She glanced down inspecting her t-shirt and jeans which now resembled something more like garments of mud._ Well, there's no helping it now_. Walking around the room she took in the Rohirric designs in the walls as she had done the night before, marveling at the craftsmanship clearly visible in the work. There was a window at the far end of the room opposite the door, it was tall and narrow. Tall, so that it let in light and narrow in order to keep the chill winds that blew through Edoras out of the room.

As usual, it was once again a windy day, she could see the flags outside snapping smartly in the cool air. She turned, facing the door as it opened suddenly on old hinges. An older woman looked in, she was dressed all in dark brown, her greying hair was pulled back into a tight braid running down her back. She was matronly in size and tall in stature with a kind smile and a gentle stride.

"Good morning milady, my name is Fetige. I will be serving you this morning." The older woman shut the door behind her and surveyed Elora with a few clicking noises of disapproval. "A mess you are indeed. Do not worry, old Fetige will have you cleaned up in a moment. The woman scurried about the room, laying out various articles of clothing as she found them. Elora watched her with dismay as particle upon particle slowly started to form the shape and undergarments of a dress. It was a gown to be sure, beautiful and simple, but well...she did not wear gowns. This was not even negotiable in Rohan...no gowns.

"Um... Fetige?" The old woman paused in her searching.

"Yes milady?"

"Is these anything else I could wear...besides a dress?"

"Besides a dress milady? What in all that is good would you wear then?" Asked the older woman, clearly surprised.

"I don't know." Elora's face flushed with embarrassment. She wanted to ride with Gandalf today, she had questions that needed to be answered _now_. "Do you have any...boy clothes?"

"_Boy clothes _milady?"

"Yes. I mean...well...like a pair of trousers...and a tunic. It's just that I'm going to be riding and...well...with the gown..."

Fetige smiled."I know just what you mean. You are too small to fit into any spares from the armory...but I could get you some of my lad's older things. And you do so much remind me of Lady Eowyn, bless the child. I took care of her when she was a tiny little thing you know. With her parents dying and all, terribly sad. You two are quite alike, indeed you are." Fetige paused, thinking aloud. "We do not have much time... King Theoden has ordered a retreat from the city. We travel to Helm's Deep in a few hours."

"We're going to Helm's Deep!"

"Yes." Fetige sighed. "To think it has come to this at last." Shaking her head, she looked back up at Elora and smiled sadly. "Do not listen to the mutterings of an old woman milady, my mind is in many places today. I'll send my lad up with your clothes and I'll bring some breakfast to you shortly."

"Thank you very much Fetige." Elora said gratefully. The sound of clean pants was sounding more and more inviting...especially in light of her current attire of mud. Besides Fetige being so accommodating had raised the older woman in Elora's favor, and she found herself thinking fondly of the maid.

Fetige closed the door, and as quickly as she had come, she was gone. Elora looked down at the dress lying on the bed. Well... It wouldn't hurt to clean herself up a bit would it? _Maybe even try it on? _There was a basin of fresh water and a washing cloth next to it on a table by the bed. She reached for it and upon removing what was left of her shirt, she washed away as much dirt and grime from her arms, face, and neck as she possibly could. Nodding in approval as she looked herself over, she quickly slipped the gown on. The dress was light brown in color with large sleeves, trimmed with white and tying up in the front. It was beautiful. She smiled, glancing down at herself and spinning. There was a small mirror in the room, well, it actually looked more polished glass but approaching it, she peered at her reflection.

She kneeled before it, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to get out the knots. It was useless...she needed a bath...a long bath. She sighed, and quickly braided her hair and tied it off with her elastic. Well...she wouldn't say she looked beautiful...she looked...nice. Feeling awkward, she smiled, she was dressed as a Lady of Rohan... how often does that happen? There was a knock at the door, slightly startled, she rose in a rush and dashed to open it.

A boy stood there, an older boy...not much older then herself in years. He had sea blue eyes that were sparkling with laughter as he looked her over. He was tall, and brawny. The sinewy muscles in his arms testified to that, and he stood nearly a full head taller. Elora could not make herself meet his eyes again and felt her face starting to flush a deep, hot red. He smiled and bowed his head slightly in greeting.

"My mother told me to bring these to you milady." He gestured to the pile of neatly folded clothes held in his outstretched arms.

Elora staring for a moment and forcing words to be choked out she, she took the clothes from him and clasped them tightly to her chest. "Thank you."

He nodded again, "Your welcome." She looked down, avoiding his kind gaze. "My name is Relicor...might I ask who you are milady? My mother said you are a stranger to Rohan."

"Your mother?"

"Fetige...she was here earlier..."

"Oh. Yes... I'm Elora."

"And you are from...?"

"Um...somewhere...far away..."

Relicor tilted his head in confusion. "Far away is it?"

"Yes...I'm not sure...well...actually...um...to be quite honest...I'm not sure...exactly...how I got here...and well...I'd prefer not to talk-"

"I'm sorry..." Relicor interrupted quickly, "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, it's fine." Elora said , looking up at Relicor with wide eyes and immediately regretting it. He was smiling again... _why did he have to smile_?

"So...are you ready to leave the city milady?"

"Yes...I think so. But please, don't call me milady...Elora is fine."

"'Tis proper milady...someone of your status..."

"No...really...I'm not all that...um...important." Why wouldn't the damned words come out right? She wanted to hit herself, she was a fool. A retarded fool, Relicor was after all, only trying to be polite.

Relicor leaned his tall body against the door frame. "Ah, that is the thing the thing, isn't it? You are important. There is not a person who has not wondered of the woman who traveled with Lord Aragorn, Gandalf, an elf and a dwarf. That is something to be questioned...and admired. For you may not see it, but it was you and your companions who returned to us our king once more."

Elora blushed furiously. "I didn't do anything...it was all an accident...I was attacked that's all. I- I was just...defending myself."

"Yet there you are wrong again, my friend was guard at the gates when it happened. Brave deeds are not so easily forgotten here in Rohan, nor do they go unrewarded. According to my friend, this strange maiden fair, fought bravely, though wounded herself."

Elora touched the bandage around her head. She caught herself in mid-motion and dropped it once again to her side. Both were silent for a moment and Elora became dully aware of a painful throbbing in her head...or was it her chest? Relicor was friendly...amiable. There was something about him that made you want to instantly like him.

"If I may say so milady, the gown you wear now is much more beautiful on you then these trousers would be. Why do you feel the need for boy's clothes?" His question was innocent, clear-cut, and curious. Not accusing in the least. Acually...he almost seemed...amused.

Elora blushed once again at his compliment, shifting her weight. "Well, I still plan to ride with Gandalf and the others, and that's rather difficult when you're wearing a dress."

Relicor replied, "Well, I would not know anyway, 'tis not my area of experiance. However, I understand your meaning."

Elora fingered the trim of her dress, avoiding his probing gaze. A horn sounded from outside the window and both turned to look. "That is the call, they warning the people to be ready to leave the city soon." Said Relicor observantly, he caught her gaze again. "I must go to the stables, maybe I will see you again?"

Elora was flattered that anyone in this place would desire her company, but she smiled shyly and replied."Yes, perhaps."

"Then I must leave you but I look forward to our next meeting."He said kindly, then hesitating before he turned to go he added, "Good-bye... Elora."

"Good-bye, Relicor...it was...um... a pleasure to meet you." She answered awkwardly, thinking hard on how to say farewell in a way acceptable in Rohan. Relicor chuckled and nodded,

"As it was I to you." He met her gaze, smiled, and returned down the hall with a quick stride.

Elora stood leaning on the door frame for a moment, slightly dazed by this encounter. Regaining her senses, she retreated once more into the room and slipped out of the dress into a pair of dark brown trousers, a dark, long tan tunic which a leather belt and a pair of high cloth boots. Glancing in the mirror she felt her cheeks and noted with dismay that they were hot, as if inflamed. _Stupid, stupid, stupid Elora! _She thought as she admonished herself with a groan. Apparently she had found a friend and though she was slightly embarrassed at her withdrawn behaviour, the thought made her smile faintly.

She heard the horn again, it sounded more urgent, slightly louder. She debated for a moment whether or not she should wait for Fetige to return; then growing impatient and slightly nervous, she opened the door and glanced down the hall. It was empty, she darted inside the room, shoved the dress inside a brown, leather jerkin bag she found laying out, (assuming it was for her), she slung it over her shoulders along with the remains her tattered, old denim jacket. Then moving quickly back to the door, she took a deep breath, and darted down the hall in search of her new companions.

* * *

This is actually quite fun, re-writing this story. I feel much more accomplished knowing that I've improved from when I first began, and that's a wonderful feeling. -

Namarie,

Luthien Anaclime

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. A Gift From Gandalf

**Chapter Five**

**A Gift From Gandalf**

* * *

Surprisingly, Elora found the Golden Hall without much trouble. Soldiers milled about quickly, gathering weapons and supplies for the road ahead. Many stood pouring over maps with King Theoden, who stood at the end over a table making plans for the trip to Helm's Deep. Unable to understand what they were saying, she turned and looked about for the door. Thinking quickly, she decided her best path to finding Gandalf was through the horses. So, darting quietly out the door so as not to draw attention to herself, she ran down the steps and out of the building. 

The stables were not a long way from the hall and she found them easily by following the sounds of high pitched whinnies and stomping hooves. The building itself was amazing upon her discovery of it. Filled with horses of every shade and color, all proof of the horsemanship, extensive breeding, and care of the Rohirrim. Hasufel, Arod, and Shadowfax were stabled on the end of the long aisle way. All were alert at the bustle inside as the soldiers mounted their horses and equipped them for battle.

Elora smiled warmly, thinking lightly of Snowy, and appraising each in turn with an eye of a rider. All three were powerfully built, with glossy coats, well-formed muscles, and long legs. Her eyes were drawn to the large, white horse standing on the far end. His ears were pricked tensely as he watched the goings on of the barn.

She smiled, "So this is the mighty Shadowfax?" She said softly, approaching the great horse cautiously. He had large, deep brown eyes that were full of wisdom and life. He snorted as she stopped at the stable door, looking up at him with a smile. She reached out her hand slowly to him and eyeing it curiously, the Prince of Mearas gently nudged the tips of his fingers before turning away and looking for another point of interest to occupy himself.

Elora frowned, recalling distantly a moment similar to this...only then she had been with Snowy...he had still been alive and everything had been right. She moved away from the stall, not wanting to recall memories as painful as those and swiftly trying to push them to the back of her mind.

"You found the stables quickly." Commented a deep, rumbling voice from behind her. Elora whirled in a bout of surprise to find herself standing face to face with Gandalf, the Istari. She shuddered, wondering again how this could all be real. He cleared his throat,

"I am sorry I did not have time to speak with you sooner..."

"No! That's all right...I was fine." More then anything she DID NOT WANT Gandalf the White apologizing to HER. A worthless mortal who wasn't even suppose to be here in the first place. She thought she saw the shadow of a smile pass over the old wizard's face, but it was soon gone.

"Would you like to sit down?" He asked, she quickly shook her head. "All right. I know you have a number of questions to ask of me, some I may be able to answer, others might only be told through time. What is it that you wish to know of me?"

I looked at him, took a long deep breath. "I do not understand how I came to be here...I was only out riding...and then here I am."

"Where is your home?"

In the US of A, she wanted to reply, but bit her lip. That might not sound good...at all. Elora smiled sheepishly "No where near here."

He nodded understandingly, and did not ask anything more about my home...for which I was eternally grateful. For I did not know how I would answer his questions if he asked them of me without sounding crazy...or like a spy of Sauron. Neither of which she DID NOT currently wish to be classified as.

"That is one of those questions," he said "which we can only find out with time."

Elora's forehead was wrinkled in thought, she twirled a lose curl unconsciously as she tried to form the right works for her next question. "But...but Gandalf-sir...um...why exactly am I here? What is the point of all of this?"

Gandalf was silent for a moment. "Fate and reason is something not for our minds. There is a reason for everything and a time for everyone under the sun. I believe you will discover that someday for yourself. Do you know how to get back to your home?"

Elora's face blanched, and she slowly shook her head. That was a mystery she was never going to understand nor even try to uncover.

"Then, I believe you will be staying here with us in the meantime anyway." He answered, nodding as if to confirm his theory. He looked back up at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "I thought since you insist of acting the part of a man,"

Elora blushed at the reference to her outlandish style of dress...there was no point in trying to explain her want to dress in trousers and a tunic...so she didn't bother. But this thought did not lessen the brightness of her cheeks.

"That you might want this:" He drew out from under his cloak a long sword. Two horses were engraved into the hilt which was mounted with soft leather. Elora's eyes widened as she looked upon it.

"That...is for _me_?"

Gandalf nodded with a smile and chuckled as she slowly took it into her grasp in stark astonishment. She gripped the hilt tightly, a pleased smile on her face. Then slowly it faded and she looked back up at him. "But I've never used a sword before."

"Ah, but see, you will learn something during your stay...it might as well be useful."

The smile returned and she looked again at her reflection in the polished metal. "I believe you might get your young friend to teach you how to use it exactly." He said.

Elora's eyebrows raised slightly,

"Relicor I think his name was?"

Elora gaped at the wizard who responded with a hearty laugh. "You do not think wizards are blind as well as deaf? Be off with you, prepare to leave the city."

Elora nodded, grasping her sword tightly in one hand and then bolting from the stable like a skittish horse. On her way out she passed Aragorn...held the sword high, and despite all her wishes to appear grown-up in his eyes, could not help but do a half-prance before darting into the streets. Leaving the ranger with a bemused look on his face as she left him behind.

Looking about the stable-yard for a familiar face, she saw Eowyn who bade her with a quick wave to join her. The lady smiled at her as she displayed her sword. "Ah, the old man had requested a light-handed sword last night while you slept. I did not know it would be granted to you."

"It is wonderful." Elora said excitedly. "I've never had a sword before."

"No? Well, there is a first time for everything." Eowyn said. "That was the first sword I learned to fight with as a girl, not much younger then you. My brother hated the idea of me fighting and did everything he could to dissuade me." She smiled wistfully. "He never could though, and he's never underestimated me since." She met Elora's eyes once more and Elora could read a deep regret and sadness that she had never noticed before. "Never give up Elora, your trials may only be milestones in your path, but that is what makes them the greater victories when overcome."

Elora could think of nothing to say, so she merely nodded and glanced at the dun horse who was standing lazily next to Eowyn. "Who is this?" She asked, reaching out to rub the horse's muzzle.

"This is Besorg. He is to be your mount."

Elora looked up at Eowyn with shining eyes. "Really? He's wonderful!" She smiled as she hesitantly stroked the horse's tan flanks. He looked back at her with two large, brown eyes. He blinked, snorted, then turned away and began to doze off with a sigh.

"Lord Aragorn requested him for you. I don't know why...Besorg is a mighty animal...but spirited. Do you think you can handle him?"

Elora thought of Snowy with a painful twinge. Snowy's blood-lines had made him naturally energetic...she could recall dismounting after a long ride with blisters on her hands. Elora nodded and looked back at Eowyn. "Yes, I can."

Eowyn nodded and smiled encouragingly at her. "This is good. We are leaving Edoras within the hour, you need to be ready by then." She handed Elora the reins and smiled briefly at her.

"Yes milady."

"No, I told you." The older woman replied, winking mischievously at the younger girl. "Call me Eowyn."

* * *

Elora saddled Besorg without much difficulty. The Rohirric saddles were strange...like ancient western saddles back home. That in itself was foreign to her since she was more familiar with the lighter, versatile English saddles she had used to ride Snowy. Besorg, as she had been warned, was spirited and he pranced as she swung her body up onto his back. She steadied him with some soft reassurances and a few pats, feeling at once at home on his long, stocky back. Besorg reminded her of a mustang, his black mane was long, the forelock draping his forehead and laid softly upon his eyes. 

Once she had mounted and had tied her meager possessions to the saddle, she nudged Besorg into a trot and looked for signs of her new companions. She spied Gandalf on his great white horse by the gates, speaking with the king. She glanced around the masses of the Rohirrim trailing out of the city, but did not see either of the three riders whom had brought her here in the first place. Sighing, she nudged Besorg in the crowd and began the long journey out of the city. It would be noon soon...and by that time the great city of Edoras, its halls, houses, stables, and cottages...would all be empty.

They were going to Helm's Deep.

* * *

I finally updated this story. EEK! The beginning of 'A Loss of Memory' was TERRIBLE! I mean, it was my first fanfic. And all, but ...shudders you know the rest. :) 

**Terms to Know:**

Flank: Region of a horse between the hips and the tail.

Forelock: Horse bangs

Dun: A tan horse, with black points, (Mane, tail, legs) and commonly a long stripe from their withers, down their backs and to their tails.

Note: Besorg is not a new character, but is merely 'Isildur' from 'A Loss of Memory'. I didn't want to keep Isildur as his name because, though I am not certain of the subject, the Rohirrim wouldn't know much about Isildur. Besorg is a Rohirric name so I chose it instead.

**Thanks again to my beta and to all who have reviewed or who are reading!**

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	6. The Road to Helm's Deep

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters, places, things, or anything relating to LotR. I only own my plot and those whom I have created for this story.

* * *

Chapter Six

The Road to Helm's Deep

* * *

It was strange to see the faces of a nation that had lived so long without any hope. Elora and Besorg had ridden quietly through the ranks of weary men, women, and children. All had the same taunt, lifeless look about them. Bodies which were hunched from sorrow, and eyes that had been tainted with a feeling of misery. The children walked like adults...for at heart...there were no children left.

She scowled, it was a cruel thing...to see a proud nation go into such decay. She glanced down at Besorg, patted his neck. Then looking around at the people walking around her, she dismounted, too ashamed to ride any longer.

Elora didn't find Aragorn, Legolas, or Gimli for a while, so instead rode alone. The way to the Deep was long, and the road perilous. Every so often the soldiers would gallop their horses up and down the long train of refugees to make sure that all was well. Elora took in all of this with growing sadness, and it was then, towards dusk, that she noticed two children, a girl and a boy, stumbling along side of her. The girl had locks of dirty blond hair and a face that had long since seen a smile. She looked no older then eight or nine. The boy, who looked slightly older, was shouldering a small bow. His flaxen hair was cropped to his shoulders and he looked straight ahead as the two walked.

The girl felt Elora's stare and turned to her, her large brown eyes curiously running over her male clad features.

The girl's brows knit in confusion. "Are you a girl or a boy?" She asked rather bluntly.

Her brother jerked, apparently startled at the girl's words and turned to look at the strange woman walking with them. His eyes, equally as large and brown as the girl's, were wide with horror.

"Léofcild!" He scolded. "You do not ask people those kinds of questions."

The girl looked slightly hurt, "I was not asking anything rude, I just wanted to know because she's not wearing a dress."

The boy looked helplessly up at Elora, "I am terribly sorry milady. She is not used to strangers."

Elora had to fight back a laugh and instead grinned. "Its all right." She said, "I don't mind."

The boy did not smile in return.

"What are your names?" She asked.

"I'm Eledferth, this is my sister Léofcild." He said simply.

Elora nodded, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Elora."

Eledferth's brows knit in a similar fashion as his sister. "You were in the great hall." He said suddenly, "When the Worm was driven out."

Elora, surprised, nodded, "Yes...how did you know about that?"

"Everyone knows about you." Said Léofcild. "They said you were very brave."

Elora laughed outright this time. "I don't know about that."

"But you did help to drive out the Worm." Eledferth persisted.

Elora nodded reluctantly, "A little." She thought of the fight the day before, and how Gandalf had returned Theoden to his rightful self. She had not seen them drive Grima out of the Golden Hall. But by the way Eledferth spoke his name, she guessed that Grima had not been favored by the people of Rohan.

"You did, Papa saw you." Continued the boy, "He is a guard, he saw the whole thing."

Elora flushed, eager to change the subject she said, "I'd like to walk for a stretch more, would you to like to ride my horse? He needs the exercise."

Léofcild nodded quickly, while Eledferth looked slightly hesitant. "Your sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not! Here, I'll give you a leg up."

Eledferth had no objection after Elora's reassurance, she stopped Besorg and lifted the two into the saddle. Both were light as a feather. Léofcild reached out to stroke the dun's silky coat and Elora almost thought she saw a gleam of pleasure in the little girl's eyes as she did so.

"So, where are your parents anyway?" Elora asked.

"Papa has to ride with the Riders. And Mama had to go up to aid the other woman in gathering food and wood for the camp tonight." Eledferth said softly as he watched his sister stroke Besorg's neck.

"I like horses." Léofcild said quietly.

Eledferth nodded, she could see pride written on his bronzed face. "Léofcild wants to be a Rider like Papa when she grows up. I told her she couldn't. But I am going to be one. I'll be just as brave as Papa."

Léofcild's lip stuck out in a mild pout. She turned to Elora, "Eledferth says only boys can be Riders. Don't you think I could too?"

Elora frowned, her knowledge of Rohirric history was a bit rusty at the moment. She couldn't recall anything that was to happen later in the story, she had to just take it as it came. But she did recall one thing about the people of Rohan.

"Perhaps you'll become a shield maiden."

Léofcild's eyes widened at this thought. "Do you really think so?"

"Why not? You could be a warrior, dressed in the garb of Rohan. Maybe that is better then a Rider."

Eledferth said nothing, but the girl's eyes did not return at once to their normal size. "Are you a sheild maiden Elora?"

Elora laughed, "I'd like to think so."

Eledferth stared for a moment longer, then asked. "Where do you come from Elora? You do not speak like the Rohirrim."

Elora looked at him in surprise, these children were wise for their years. "I am not from Rohan." She answered slowly.

"Then where are you from?"

She paused, "Far away, very far away."She caught Eledferth's eyes and he slowly nodded in understanding.

"Why does your country not help us with this war?" Asked Léofcild, "Papa said we might win if we only had a bit of help."

Elora blinked, that was a hard one. "Well, I don't think they know about it. We live so far from here..." Elora gazed around, desperate to change the topic. Eledferth knew too much for his own good, and what she did not want right now was a lot of questions. "Would you like to go faster?" She asked quickly.

Both nodded, and Elora smiled. She clucked and Besorg, who had pricked his ears at this noise, broke into a fast trot. Eledferth held onto his sister tightly, but as they continued, she thought she saw a shadow of a smile pass over their faces. She slowed Besorg to a walk, and he snorted as she did so "Did... you... like... that.. then?" Elora asked breathlessly.

The brother and sister exchanged glances, and nodded, small smiles creeping onto their wind swept faces.

So their day passed, Eledferth was not as talkative as his sister, but the three of them got along quite nicely. When finally they stopped to make camp and their mother came over to collect the two, she thanked Elora heartily and asked her to eat the evening meal with them. Not finding her previous companions in sight, she accepted.

The meal, though simple, was delicious in and of itself. The children's mother, Éohides, was a slight woman with hair that Léofcild had clearly inherited. Despite appearances, she was a strong woman, and a brave one at that. Their father, Blanca, was tall and broad shouldered. He had the same flaxen hair as his son, and, he was in no desire to let Elora off the hook about her deeds the previous day.

Once they meal had been finished, she bid the family good by and led Besorg to a quiet spot on the outskirts of the refugee camp. She set up a camp with the provisions Éowyn had given her. She made a fire and let the dun graze a little ways off from where Elora sat thinking. She drew one knee to her chest, stretching the other leg out and absent-mindedly stroked the fire with a long stick.

She remembered her home. _The small farm on the hill. The horses._ _Her parents training the horses in the arena. Her sister riding out on the trails with her_. She shook her head, she didn't want to remember. For it was only a painful reminder that she did not know how to get back home. She thought briefly of Snowy and his memory made her wince. She jerked in surprise at the sound of footsteps nearing the fire and she turned round to see her visitor.

"Elora?"

It was Aragorn. She started to rise but he kept a hand on her shoulder and sat down opposite of her.

"Aragorn, I couldn't find you earlier..."

He cut her off with a smile, "I rode with King Theoden." He paused, "But it seems you've had no trouble fitting in."

Elora smiled, thinking of Eledferth and Léofcild. "No, not at all." She agreed softly.

Both were silent.

Aragorn clasped his hands together. "Have you had any luck remembering how to return to your home?"

Elora shook her head.

"Our road leads to danger." He warned.

Elora looked up at him, meeting his grey gaze. "I'm am not afraid."

He nodded, not pressing the issue.

"Where do you live?" She asked.

Aragorn looked into the fire. "Up north, with my kin sometimes, sometimes no where at all. I travel most of the time."

Silence again.

"What about your home Elora, what of your family?"

"My family? My parents work with horses. I have a little sister, and..." she paused, "an older brother." She paused again, "But I hardly see him anymore."

Aragorn nodded. It was strange, talking to the character of your favorite book. She couldn't help but wonder why she had been placed in the middle of all of this. The thought almost made her smile.

Besorg came over to Elora and nudged her. She turned to him in surprise and laughed, "You are hungry my friend?" The horse snorted, she smiled and fed him a piece of bread she had leftover from her supper.

Aragorn smiled. "He seems to like you. Tell me, what's his name?" he asked.

"Besorg."

"That is a good name."

Elora shrugged. "Lady Éowyn gave him to me." She looked up at the dun as walked off a ways for more grass.

She didn't speak again on the matter. She did not want to become too close to the dun. She knew there was trouble brewing, and she had no desire to lose a friend all over again.

"Being at peace with horses is a good thing, they are a noble animals. You must be well respected where you live."

Elora did not reply. She didn't want to think of home. She didn't want to think about anything referring to it.

"Sometimes," Aragorn said gently, "the burdens we carry are much easier if shared with someone."

Elora looked up at him, and saw wisdom in his eyes. She turned away, she had no desire to tell Aragorn her troubles, he had enough of his own.

He rose, "Get some rest, we have along journey ahead of us."

Elora nodded, stretching out by the fire. She feel asleep almost immediately, the efforts of the day finally kicking in. Her head still hurt from her excursions and it had only added to her weariness.

Aragorn watched her with small smile on her face, then looked up at the dun. He was standing lazily over his mistress.

"Take care of her." He whispered to the horse in Elvish. The horse flicked his tail, then slowly, curled his legs under him and laid down next to Elora's still body. Aragorn watched, pulled a blanket over her. Before he rose once more and turned to leave.

"Well done my friend." He said, The dun knickered softly. Then Aragorn turned, walking back to his own camp. Leaving Elora sleeping soundly next to the horse as the fire died down to embers.

* * *

Yes, I finally updated. I hope you all like! Just so everyone knows, Eledferth and Léofcild are 'Loricka and Frodrick' from 'A Loss of Memory'. Same people, different names. :)

I will try to update soon! But I make no promises...

TO BE CONTINUED...


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